Tell Me a Story
by Elephantian
Summary: Roger is sick and Mark tells him a interesting story about the bohemians. oneshot. could be MarkRoger, but it's not.


**This started off as something different, but I really like the outcome. This is just a little oneshot to keep me content until the writer's block goes away. I hope you like it! (I don't own RENT.)**

Roger was sick. His nose was red and stuffy and his eyes were watering. Used tissues covered his bed.

"ACHOO!"

Roger sneezed into a stark white tissue before moaning and tossing it into the ever-growing pile. He rubbed his crusty eyes and tried to sleep. He groaned and dug his head under the pillow when he heard Mark enter the loft.

"Roger!" he called, "I'm home!"

Mark opened the door to see the messy display in front of him. He chuckled lightly before making his way over to his friend and fluffing the pillows.

"Thanks Mark." Roger mumbled, his nose still stuffy.

"No problem."

"Hey Mark," Roger asked, "Could you tell me a story?"

Mark smiled. "Sure thing Roger," He answered.

Roger squealed in delight, happily snuggling under the thin blankets to stay warm. He loved Mark's story, but they were only saved for when he was sick, so at least some good came of it.

"What're you going to tell this time?" Roger asked excitedly.

"I've got a new story," Mark answered, causing Roger to smile, "So here we go."

_Once upon a time there was a rebellious prince…_

Prince Roger slowly plucked away at his royal guitar. He wanted nothing more than to just get away from the stupid pricks that controlled his life. As much as he liked the maidens cheering for him, he wanted a woman that would like him as a person, not as a royal asshole. So, Prince Roger packed up his royal guitar and put some peasant clothing in a little sack before running away from the grand palace.

No one really recognized Prince Roger without his royal clothing, so he didn't make friends too quickly. No one wanted to help a 'lowly peasant'. They had their own problems.

One night, it began to rain harshly and Prince Roger was lost and miles and miles away from home with nowhere to go. Suddenly, a little man in a heavy robe with a cane came up to him.

'Why hello there,' the man said, 'What are you doing out here in the rain? You'll surely catch pneumonia and die. Why don't you come with me back to my shack? It isn't much, but it's home.'

Prince Roger smiled and happily accepted the stranger's kind offer, only to happy to have found a person of kindness in the cruel world of which he'd roamed for the past few days. They walked for a little while in the rain before coming across a small, wooden house that was leaning to one side and seemed like it would cave in at any moment.

_Surely this isn't the man's house_, Prince Roger thought to himself. So when the stranger led Prince Roger up the path to the shack, the prince's stomach did a flip-flop. This was no place for a respectable and highly person like him! However, Prince Roger bit his tongue and followed the stranger to his home.

When they entered the single-roomed shack, the stranger pulled back his hood, shaking the water from his strawberry-blonde hair and rubbing his glazed eyes.

_Oh my, _Prince Roger thought to himself, _This man is blind!_

'Why, I forgot to introduce myself,' the stranger said, 'My name is Markus. I'm sorry I cannot offer you a better place to stay for the night, your highness, but this is my humble home and you are welcome to stay as long as you want.'

Prince Roger gasped. How did this blind peasant know his real identity? Before he could say a word, however, a willowy woman walked into the room.

'Why Markus!' the lady exclaimed, 'Who have you brought this time?'

'Lady Maureen,' Markus answered, 'This is Roger. I've invited him to stay the night until the rain lets up.'

Prince Roger smiled to himself, only too grateful that the kind stranger had kept his secret, however he knew it.

'This man is up to no good,' Maureen said aloud to herself, 'But if you, Markus, invited him I'll have to trust your judgment. Stranger, I am Lady Maureen.'

'I'm Roger,' Prince Roger replied, 'Now bugger off and go suck a cow utter.'

Lady Maureen gasped and stormed off, mumbling something about cows and palaces and suicidal mice under her breath.

When she was gone, Markus began to laugh. 'I never knew royalty had such amazing senses of humor!' he mused, causing Prince Roger to chuckle.

A tall, black man entered the shack. 'Why Sir Collins,' Markus said, 'What held you up? Were the to-be squires rude again?'

'Like always,' Sir Collins muttered, 'Now, who do we have here?'

'I'm Roger,' Prince Roger answered.

'Sir Collins.'

The two men shook hands and Markus smiled, but it disappeared when a heavy knock sounded at the door.

'It's Count Benjamin!' a voice said, 'Open up or I'll burn your worthless shack to the ground!'

Sir Collins rushed over to the door and opened it. 'What do you want Count Benjamin?' he asked, annoyed.

'You haven't paid taxes to the highnesses in a year!' Count Benjamin said, 'And I haven't received your monthly share of goods to pay for the shack yet! I'll have to evict you one of these days unless I get that money and goods!'

'But Sir Benjamin,' Lady Maureen protested, walking back into the shack, 'Don't you remember your days in the Royal Shack of Avenue A?'

Sir Benjamin snickered. 'I do, but taxes are taxes! I'll just take your candles for now.'

With that, Sir Benjamin blew out all the candles, stuffed them in a burlap sack and walked away.

'What a sour apple.' Lady Maureen mused before leaving again.

Another knock sounded on the door. Everyone turned to Markus. "Tis a knock I haven't heard before.' He said.

Sir Collins opened the door. A small little woman in a shabby dress walked in. 'Do thee sirs have a match? My fire went out.'

Everyone shook their heads no. 'Sorry miss,' Markus said, 'Count Benjamin took all of our candles.'

'Very well then, nice to have met you. I'm Madame Mimi by the way. I live down the trail a ways. I'm your new neighbor.'

Sir Collins closed the door behind Madame Mimi, smiling his smile. It seemed contagious as Prince Roger started smiling too, a little idea forming in his head.

Another knock sounded on the door and Prince Roger ran to get it before Markus could say a word. A tiny man with long-grown hair appeared, wearing a corset and a flowing skirt.

'I'm sorry to say,' she…he?…said, 'But I've just killed a dog. Can I stay here for the night?'

Markus nodded, glancing cautiously at Prince Roger though unseeing eyes before saying, 'It would be our honor…er…'

'Duchess Angel.'

'It would be our honor Duchess Angel. Make yourself comfortable.' Markus finished.

'Well, we'd best be off,' Sir Collins said, 'Remember Markus, our shack is just down the road a bit.'

Markus nodded and Sir Collins and Duchess Angel made their way out the door.

'Markus!' Lady Maureen yelled, bursting in the door, 'I have a new friend for you to meet! Her name is Baronet Joanne.'

Both Markus and Baronet Joanne stiffened up.

'You're a dancer,' Markus finally said quietly, 'But no one knows it. Nice to have met you.'

'The pleasure is all mine.' Baronet Joanne said uncomfortable before exiting the shack with Lady Maureen.

The idea in Prince Roger's head was now fully fledged. He turned towards Markus and took his hand. 'Oh you good man,' he said, 'You truly live in royalty. You have friends and love and life. Please Markus, let me leave my past life behind and join you and the fellow peasants here in this shack.'

Markus pondered a moment before smiling and saying, 'Why of course Prince Roger.'

_...Even though times were tough for Prince Roger and his friend, he was never happier. The End_.

So what did you think?" Mark finished.

However, his question went unanswered because Roger had finally fallen asleep and was now snoring softly.

Mark smiled before tucking the blanket tighter around his friend's body. "Good night Prince Roger," he mumbled before exiting the room.


End file.
